


Laundry Day

by thenakednymph



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, BOM Keith, Fluff and Angst, I love Keith in Lance’s jacket okay, Lance thinks he’s slick, Langst, M/M, Pidge been knew, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), keith is an idiot, like that is god tier shit, rated for language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-01-25 20:13:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18581776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenakednymph/pseuds/thenakednymph
Summary: Keith is leaving for the Blades. Lance stuffs his jacket into the bottom of a duffel bag, smuggling it to Keith and hopes it’s subtle. Pidge may be on to him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know how many chapters this has, I haven’t broken it up yet. I just wanted to do a one shot about Lance reacting to the Naxzela incident and it spiraled out of control. 
> 
> I have no idea how to summarize this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys! Guys! Look at this image of Keith in Lance's jacket!!! https://magimagali.tumblr.com/post/166835899003/mattholt

Keith is leaving them for the Blades and Lance panics. He doesn’t want this. It wasn’t the solution he’d been hoping for when he’d opened up to Keith about his insecurities and fears. Because now Keith is  _ leaving _ and Lance doesn’t know how to take it back. Doesn’t know how to fix it. 

He grabs an old duffel bag, pulling off his jacket for reasons he doesn’t really want to examine too closely. Maybe he hopes it’ll give Keith a reason to come back; maybe it’s an insurance policy to make sure he does, an excuse. Maybe it’s a lucky charm, something he fancies will keep Keith safe while he’s away. Maybe it’s a reminder; that he has people back on the ship who care about him. Maybe it’s supposed to say all the things Lance can’t, like  _ come back _ and  _ please don’t go _ and  _ I’ll miss you.  _

Whatever the reason, he folds up the jacket, shivering in the vulnerability of no longer wearing it, apologizing to his brother for giving it away. He safely tucks it into the bottom of the bag before sneaking into Keith’s room and throwing a change of clothes in on top along with whatever random shit he can find in the bathroom as an excuse. 

He stumbles across Keith’s gloves and hesitates to add them, not sure why Keith had left them behind. Lance knows he doesn’t have a lot of time, Keith is already in his Marmoran armor and they’ll be docking with the Blades soon. He shoves the gloves in his pocket, zips up the bag and runs for the hangar, taking a moment to collect himself, slinging the bag lazily over his shoulder before strolling in. 

“Hey Mullet. You forgot your shit.” He tosses the bag at Keith who barely manages to catch it as it hits him in the chest. 

He stares at it, dumbfounded. “I didn’t-”

“What,” Lance drawls, cutting him off, “you planning to wear nothing but the suit forever?” He flicks a finger agaisnt the breastplate, shaking his hand out when it stings. 

“Can you even fit clothes under that thing?” Lance presses a hand over his chest and gasps. “Are you naked under there?” Keith flushes and Lance tuts, fake scandalized. “Keith. My, my, my.” 

Keith opens his mouth to retaliate but Lance cuts him off again. 

“Besides, your little human toes are gonna get cold without your lion slippers.”

That brings him up short and Keith slowly unzips the bag. Resting on top of everything are the red lion slippers and if Lance didn’t know any better he’d say Keith winces. 

“She’s gonna miss you.” I’m _ going to miss you, _ Lance thinks but doesn’t know how to say it so he doesn’t, clutching the words close to his heart instead. 

Keith’s shoulders start to lift towards his ears and he looks to the side. 

“Red isn’t mine anymore,” he says softly and there’s the faintest twinge of hurt in his voice. When he looks up it’s mirrored in his eyes before he can hide it and Lance wonders if there’s more to his decision to leave than Keith is letting on.

“Yes she is,” Lance says gently. “She’s always gonna be yours no matter who pilots her.” On a rogue whim Lance leans in and winks. “We all know you're the one who stole her heart. So make sure you come back and visit her.” 

Keith slowly reaches out and touches the cheek of one lion slipper and Lance wishes it was his instead. 

“I’m gonna miss you guys,” Keith says softly, staring at the stuffed approximation of Ted’s face. 

That’s almost enough to make Lance rethink everything, to ask Keith to stay, to beg him not to go but Lance is a coward so he swallows it back. 

He only hopes he’s included in that statement. 

“We’ll miss you too,” is all Lance lets himself say before the airlock is hissing open and Kolivan is waiting. 

“Already?” Hunk asks, sounding mournful. He comes up next to them, wringing his hands and Lance slaps a hand to his shoulder.

“Yup! Sorry buddy, fate waits for no man.”

“Well can we-?” He chews his lip awkwardly, looking at Keith who finally zips the bag shut and puts it down. It’s all the incentive Hunk needs. He sweeps Lance into Keith, pulling them both into a tight hug, crushing them together, drawing the attention of the others who quickly converge on the group hug. 

Lance’s heart is racing, a litany of  _ come back, come back, come back _ , playing in his head and Keith isn’t even gone yet. He hopes Keith thinks the arms holding him painfully tight are Hunk’s or Shiro’s and not his own. 

When they finally separate Lance stuffs his hands in his jean pockets, clinging tightly to the gloves as he watches Keith walk out of his life, maybe for the last time. 

“Where’s your jacket?” Pidge asks curiously, adjusting their glasses and looking up at him suspiciously. “You practically live in that thing.” 

Lance affects a lazy shrug, trying to hide the panic settling in his throat. “Laundry day.” 

Pidge frowns but lets it go, unable to prove otherwise. And then pod is sealing and Keith is gone. And there’s nothing Lance can do about it. 


	2. Chapter 2

“I think you-” Keith chews his lips before starting again. “I have your jacket.” Keith holds it up in front of the screen as if Lance needs to see it to know it’s his.

“Oops.” Lance’s voice is flat and completely unapologetic as Keith slowly lowers his arms. “Must have gotten mixed up with your things when I was packing for you because hey, you literally gave us a five minute warning that you were leaving and hadn’t even bothered to pack an overnight.” He scoffs. “Really Keith, one would think you’d never travelled before.” He sticks his nose in the air and then examines his cuticles like they’re the most interesting thing he’s ever seen.

“Do you...want it back?” Keith asks awkwardly, still holding the jacket in his lap, not sure what to do with it.

Lance shrugs one shoulder. “I guess. But I’d hate to make you travel all the way out here because of a laundry mix up.” He settles more comfortably into his pillows and tries to look casual. “Just keep it. You can give it back to me later.”

Keith runs a thumb along one of the seams, glancing up at Lance from under his eyebrows. “You’re sure?”

Lance tips his head in an indulgent way as if Keith is an idiot. “Well unless you have a transporter ala Star Trek hiding in that thick mullet of yours I’d say yeah, I’m sure.” That draws a smile out of Keith and he lets out a laugh on a thick breath of air.

“Fuck off.”

Lance laughs and it helps to ease the tension spiraled tight inside him. His smile slowly fades and he plucks at a wrinkle in the bedsheet, chasing it back and forth.

“Look, I don’t know how top secret the Blades want you to be about your missions and shit while you’re there…” Lance says it like he expects Keith to come back. A chill washes over him as he realizes Keith might be gone for good.

He clears his throat to try and dispel the knot that’s formed. “But keep in touch okay?”

Keith smirks. “You gonna miss me?”

Lance looks at the screen of his tablet from under his lashes, twisting the bedsheet around his fingers.

“Yes.”

Keith pauses, lips parted in surprise. Lance looks at the far wall, his cheeks warm.

“You’re family.” He swallows thickly and looks back at the screen. “So let us know you’re still alive every once in awhile okay?” Lance chews on the inside of his cheek. He’s more worried than he thought he would be.

“Lance-”

An alarm blares through the castle, the lights in Lance’s room flashing red.

He groans, head thumping back against the wall.

Whatever Keith was going to say he swallows, forcing lightness into his voice instead.

“Training exercise?” he asks wryly.

“God I hope so,” Lance mutters. He gives Keith a knowing look. “Doesn’t that woman ever sleep?”

Keith laughs. It’s small and quiet but it’s still a laugh and Lance’s heart skips at the sound. He realizes he’s never heard Keith laugh before.

His heart sinks but he vows to try harder in the future to make it happen again. Keith has a wonderful laugh.

“You better get going or Allura’s gonna chew your ass.”

Lance bites his lip, hesitant to leave.

Keith’s expression softens. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Promise?” The question startles them both, both the abruptness of it and the vulnerability in Lance’s voice. He flushes but doesn’t look away.

“Yeah,” Keith says softly. “I promise. Now go on.” He gestures with his chin in the general direction of Lance’s door. “You’re gonna be late.”

Lance grins. “Later Samurai.” He vaults from the bed and runs for the door, the tablet lying abandoned on the bed. Keith hears the door open and shut, the slice of light slashing through the darkness before it’s gone and he swallows.

“See you Sharpshooter.”

Keith stares at the screen a moment longer before severing the connection.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't mean to update/post so much in 24 hours but a bitch is inspired. And I finally figured out the next chapter for this so we can finally get to the final chapter which was the ENTIRE POINT OF THIS ENTIRE FIC IN THE FIRST PLACE. So have some feelings.

Keith doesn’t mean to spend the night in Lance’s jacket. Or for it to become habit, but the room he’s been assigned to on the Marmoran base is cold and dark. It smells strange and foreign and reminds him too much of bouncing around from home to home as a kid without ever feeling like _home_. He needs something familiar to hold onto.

When he startles awake for the third time on that first night Keith reaches for Lance’s jacket, frustrated with himself but pulling it onto the bed anyway. He’s stupidly grateful Lance had gotten it mixed up with his things. It shouldn’t matter as much as it does but it feels like a connection back to Voltron, to his friends, to Lance. It feels like an invitation. Like maybe someone cares. But then he remembers it was an accident and maybe it doesn’t matter as much as he wants it to.

Keith shoves the thought aside, pressing his nose to the material and closes his eyes. He mourns the day the coat stops smelling like Lance but for now it does and it reminds him so vividly of home he aches.

If he tries hard enough he can pretend he’s still on the castle ship, that nothing has changed, and that maybe Lance had cared about him enough to ask him to stay.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jumping forward in time a little bit.
> 
> I kind of hate this chapter. It's literally useless filler to get to the next part so pretty much nothing happens.

Lance drags his feet as he steps into his room. He’s tired and sore and just wants to go to bed. His ears are still ringing from their last performance and there are dark spots flashing in his eyes from all the lights. He can feel a migraine threatening to come on and groans. It’s been a long day.

He leaves his helmet on the dresser, pulling off the floral garland someone had draped over his neck somewhere in the night.

A soft trill echoes through the room and Lance perks up. Grabbing the tablet he sets it up on the desk before dropping into a chair and swiping accept to let the video feed connect.

“Hey.” His voice comes out tired and dry and Lance doesn’t bother to try and hide it.

He and Keith have been messaging back and forth for weeks now. It’s starting to feel less and less like Lance has to hide what he’s feeling. It’s something he hadn’t realized he’d been needing.

Lance doesn’t realize Keith is smiling until it turns into a frown.

“Are you alright?”

Lance waves him off, tossing the garland onto the floor.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Aw, where’s my usual snarky Sharpshooter? I’ve usually heard at least three jokes by now,” Keith teases lounging back on the bed, the tablet in  his lap.

Instead of lifting Lance’s mood it only seems to worsen and Keith’s smile falls.

“Seriously, what’s goin' on? Did the last mission go okay?”

Lance scoffs, pulling off his belt before hauling one of his feet up onto the chair to begin removing his greaves.

“What mission? We haven’t done any real missions for weeks now.” Lance scowls. “It’s performance after performance.” He fiddles with his boots. One of the seals has been catching lately and stubbornly refuses to release. He struggles with it for a moment before it finally gives way.

“You mean that’s all you’ve been doing?” Keith stares at him in surprise. He’d known about the performances but had thought they’d continued to run missions between them.

Lance’s expression goes sly. “So you have seen them.”

Keith flushes, turning to pout at the wall. “They’re kind of hard to miss.”

Lance tips his head to the side in acquiescence. “Fair.” He sighs tiredly, dumping his boots in a pile by the desk now that he’s been successfully freed.

“We haven’t been doing much of anything outside of the performances.” He pulls off his vambraces and gloves, adding them to the pile before scrubbing at his eyes.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m a theater kid at heart, I thrive in the limelight.” He flops back into his chair, slumping. “I just…” His mouth pulls sideways, a world-weary breath leaving him. “When we first came out here and became Paladins...I thought I was going to be doing something. Helping people. Not- whatever this is.” He gestures vaguely around the room. “I get it, I know how powerful press and a reputation can be but  _ still  _ .” He grinds his teeth, his knee beginning to bounce as he tugs on his breastplate.

It comes apart and Lance holds it in his hands, staring down at the stylized V on the front. “I never thought I’d hate to look at this,” he murmurs. “But it just feels like…” He swallows thickly, thumbs running over the edges of the breastplate.

“Feels like what?” Keith prods gently.

Lance winces, wishing Keith were there. “Like another mask.” He lets the breastplate fall to the floor with a heavy clang and looks away. “Everything feels like it’s gotten so out of hand.” He finally looks back at Keith.

“I hate feeling this way,” he says softly, like he’s afraid someone else might be listening. His face falls and he squeezes his eyes shut, guilt chewing at him from the inside.

“But maybe you had the right idea.” He kicks at the discarded armor with his foot. “Maybe I should have left when I had the chance.” His expression warps and he stares at the armor, something ugly twisting in his stomach.

Lance throws himself back in the chair. “Except now I feel like a hypocrite because before I felt like I had to leave and didn’t want to and now I want to leave and feel like I have to stay.” He pinches at his eyes, tears of frustration building he can’t quite fight back. A knot forms in his throat, slowly strangling him like it’s been doing for weeks.

Keith is silent while Lance gets himself back together, finally lowering his hand.

“Sorry. I didn't mean to...dump all that on you.” He leans forward, clearing his throat and putting his elbows on his knees. “I can’t really talk to anyone else about it. They’ll just try to make me feel better.”

Keith’s eyes are searching through the screen, flicking back and forth. “And you don’t really want to.”

Lance nods. “Yeah.” His knee is bouncing faster. “If they don’t try to make me feel better I can’t feel ever more guilty about it you know?” 

Keith’s lips let like he wants to ask something else but doesn’t. 

“Out with it. I can feel your brain grinding. What’s up?”

Keith bites his lip. “Do you ever regret it?” His voice is low. “Coming out here. Getting involved in the war.”

“Pretty sure we were drafted.”

“Considering Blue all by kidnapped us I think it’s more like Shanghaied.” A smile flicks across Keith’s mouth. 

Lance snorts. He picks at a hangnail while he thinks, taking his time to answer. 

“Sometimes I think I do.” He sits back in his chair. “But I then I think about all the amazing people we’ve met, the friends we’ve made, all the things we’ve seen. And I realize how amazing it is in spite of everything. So no, I don’t regret it.” He stares back at his nail where he’s torn the cuticle. Blood is begging to well agaisnt the nail. 

“What I do regret,” he whispers, “ is the distance.” He sticks his thumb in his mouth, trying to chase away the sting. “I hate being so far away from the people I care about.” His eyes find Keith’s through the screen and his heart pulls. 

“I regret not being there for them, being a part of their lives.” He wipes his thumb along his bodysuit. 

“I have a whole new niefling at home I don’t know.” He frowns softly. “Did you know that?”

Keith shakes his head slowly. “No, I didn’t.”

Lance’s lips dip into a frown. “My sister-in-law was pregnant when we left. And I am so scared I’ll never meet them. That I’ll never get to be a part of their life.” His nails drag over the material of his undersuit as he curls them. 

“And even if we do get back to Earth what then? I disappeared. How am I supposed to apologize or explain that? Will they want to see me? How am I supposed to reconnect with my family?” 

“Lance.” 

He flinches, realizing he’s started spiraling. 

“They  _ love _ you,” Keith says gently. “There is nothing they want more than to see you again.” He doesn’t say what he’s thinking, that it’s what he wants. 

“And you’ve never had a problem connecting with people,” he teases. “It’s kind of your super power.”

Lance snorts. “So explain us.”

Keith’s eyes are soft. “We made it didn’t we?” 

“Yeah,” Lance breathes. “We did.”

He claps his hands, rubbing them together, determined to change the mood.

“So, what have you been up to since we last talked? Any more exciting half-Galra misadventures I should know about?” He stands, stripping out of the flight suit to the waist, going into the bathroom to grab a wet washcloth. He needs a shower but doesn’t want to miss out on talking with Keith so this will have to do.

Lance flops back down in the chair, scrubbing the sweat from his skin.

“Apparently I’m allergic to whatever soap they use.”

Lance stares at him. “What?”

Keith nods. “Yup. Broke out in hives for two days.”

Lance winces. “Ouch. Do you want me to send you something or like, put together a care package?” He thinks about Keith’s gloves stashed under his pillow and flushes. “We could send over some of that tea you like. Do the Blades even have a kettle? Oo! And Hunk can bake you something. I’m not sure they’re feeding you right over there.” He leans forward, narrowing his eyes at Keith. “You’re looking a little skinny.”

“Hey!” Keith looks at him, affronted. “Says the bean pole.”

Lance sticks his nose in the air. “Dream on Samurai, I have the deltoids of a swimmer. I can’t help it if all your muscle is in your legs.” He flexes dramatically and Keith’s mouth goes dry. Lance’s skin is damp with water, all but glowing in the light of the room and Keith has to tear his eyes away before he’s caught staring.

“Besides, I am built for flexibility,” Lance teases. “Can you even touch your toes?”

Keith scoffs and scowls. “I’m a lot more flexible than you think I am.” His cheeks are bright red and Lance grins.

“Is that so? Damn shame you never bothered to put it to good use.”

Keith’s complexion darkens further. “How would you know,” he snaps, crossing his arms over his chest.

Lance gives him a deadpan look. “Our rooms are literally right next door. We share a wall Keith. I know for a fact you were not getting laid while living here.”

Keith’s eyes widen and he snaps his head to the side, staring at the wall, mortified. Lance laughs so hard he cries and it feels good. He hasn’t had a real laugh in what feels like ages.

Something knocks loose inside him and Lance winds up crying a little harder into his hand than he means to, feeling something that isn’t laughter bubble up from low inside him.

When he manages to swallow it back he wipes at his face and lifts his head with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry,” he says thickly and clears his throat. “I’m kind of a mess tonight.”

“Do you want me to call back?” Keith’s cheeks are still red but there’s a worried cease across his forehead.

“Are you kidding me? This is literally the high point of my day.” Lance stands up and strips out of the undersuit off camera where Keith can’t see, pulling on his pajamas. His shower will have to wait.

“So, you want that care package?” He drops back into his chair with a lazy smile.  “Maybe the Blades can spare you for a day or two. We’d love to see you.”

“And maybe finally get your coat back?” Keith teases but Lance’s waves him off.

“Looks better on you anyway.”

And it does. Over their messages Lance has caught Keith wearing it a number of times. When Lance had asked Keith had deflected and just said he was cold and Lance didn’t want to push for fear he’d take it off and never wear it again. Lance liked seeing Keith in his coat. He’s wearing it tonight which leaves butterflies in Lance’s stomach but also tells him Keith is anxious about something.

“Actually…” Keith chews on his lip, fiddling with the sleeves that are slightly too long for him. “We may be seeing each other sooner than you think.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That being the Naxzela mission. I have no idea what the canon timeline is like and I don't care anymore. Fuck it. Flangst next chapter.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise bitch, last chapter. Enjoy the feels.
> 
> I don’t care if it breaks the narrative, I’m always going to write about Lance asking Keith to come home.

Lance doesn’t mean to find Keith after the events of Naxzela, doesn’t expect to. All he wants is to hide in his room and figure out where his heart’s gone. He felt it stop beating when Matt told them what had happened, what Keith had almost done.

He’s in a daze, wandering the empty halls of the castle ship without knowing where he’s going or for how long. One hand is pressed over his chest, searching for a heartbeat he can’t find.

Lance’s feet eventually lead him to his room and as the door slides open and he steps inside he sees Keith and thinks, _oh, there it is_.

Keith is still in his Marmoran armor, Lance’s jacket pulled on over it, the hood up over his head to hide his face.

When Lance doesn’t move from the doorway Keith shifts.

“Are you here to yell at me too?” He doesn’t look at Lance from where he’s curled into a defensive little ball in the corner of the bed, wedged between the pillows at the wall, Lance watching him numbly.

Lance’s hand falls away from his chest where his heart is beating rapidly, forcing the breath from his lungs.

“I’m too scared.” His voice sounds distant, even to him.

He can’t take his eyes off Keith but he’s itching to touch, as if his fingers will better prove what his eyes are already telling him: that Keith is here, he’s alive. He’s safe and whole and _home._

Lance takes a deep breath but it does nothing to alleviate the feeling he’s drowning.

“I know what _I_ need,” Lance says slowly, voice thin and weak, “but what do you need?” He’s physically shaking with the need to touch Keith and has to curl his clammy hands into fists to keep from reaching for him.

Keith curls impossibly tighter, his voice soft and scared, clutching the jacket closer around him. It no longer smells like Lance.

“An anchor.” He presses deeper into the coat, hiding under the hood, seeking out the smell that’s been his only source of comfort and security for months.

“Feel like I’m drowning.” His voice is as weak as Lance’s and just as scared.

Lance nods, a shiver of fear knifing through him.

“Okay.” He sinks onto the mattress, sitting beside Keith and taking his hand, holding on so hard it hurts. He wants to press himself all along Keith’s side but doesn’t know if it would be welcome; tries to focus on Keith’s needs right now instead of his own.

“This okay?” His voice cracks and Keith nods, lacing their fingers together but still won’t look at him.

Keith holds on for so long Lance’s knuckles ache but neither of them let go.

“Why would you do that?” Lance finally whispers.

He’s the only one who manages to keep it from sounding accusatory. He looks at Keith, eyes searching and confused. “Don’t you know how valuable you are?”

“To what? The mission?” Keith drags the heel of his hand over his eyes, the lesson the Blades had tried to beat into him echoing in his head over and over again. _Mission before the individual_. His voice is bitter.

Lance chokes on a little distressed noise he can’t quite swallow, finally drawing Keith’s gaze. When Lance speaks his voice breaks.

“To me.” His eyes are wet but he doesn’t look away, just holds on tighter, afraid Keith will let go of his hand and leave him drifting.

“I’m sorry I didn’t do a better job of showing you that. Or telling you. But I’m trying to fix it. Because you’re important to me.” Lance’s mouth works for a moment, trying to find what he wants to say.

“You mean a lot to me. More than I realized before you left. And I know it’s selfish but I need you here. I’m better with you than I am without you.” His voice cracks and Lance swallows thickly, wiping at his face.

“I need you. Okay?” He’s starting to shake, the breath wheezing out of him through the pressure in his chest, the fear overwhelming him. “You scared me.” The confession leaves him hollow and small. He feels terribly vulnerable and curls his knees to his chest, a mirror to Keith, covering his eyes with one hand as the terror washes through him again.

The tension in his chest is so tight he can’t speak, the words he tries to get out strangling him and Lance is distantly worried he’s going to hyperventilate. And then Keith is tugging him sideways, pulling Lance into his chest, both of them clinging to the other and the dam choking Lance breaks.

He wants to scream, the fear overwhelming and breaking across him like the surf, threatening to draw him out into the riptide.

Keith does a small roll, pulling Lance onto his chest, tapping at the collar of his armor, the metal plates disentigrating until Keith is left in nothing but the dark undersuit and Lance’s coat.

The weight of Lance against him helps to ground Keith inside his own body, Lance clinging to the loud, hard thump of Keith’s heartbeat under his ear as he cries.

“I didn’t know what else to do.” Keith’s voice wavers. “I wasn’t thinking.” His arm around Lance’s shoulders tightens. He hides his tears in Lance’s hair. “I’m still scared,” he whispers. “Nothing feels real.”

Lance slides his hand up Keith’s spine, fingers spread wide and flat as a terrified noise rips out of him. The weight of Keith’s body pinning his hand to the mattress is making it numb but Lance doesn’t pull it back.

Keith drags in a breath, his chest working harder to expand under Lance’s weight.

“This helps.”

Lance tucks his face against Keith’s neck, savoring the smell of him, something he’d never really appreciated before, never been close enough to, never let himself appreciate and now he can’t remember why.

He’s distantly aware that his jacket smells like Keith now and it warms his heart, soothing away the pain. It feels right.

“You scared me,” Lance whispers. It doesn’t feel big enough to describe the fear that had threatened to swallow him, black teeth scraping over his skin like ice, but it’s the only thing he can think to say.

“Couldn’t let you die,” Keith says into Lance’s hair. “Any of you.” He hesitates, arms flexing around Lance. “Couldn’t let _you._ ” He has nothing else to lose.

Lance holds him tighter. His lashes are wet against Keith’s throat.

“I’m so scared without you,” Lance admits. “All the time. I miss having you there at my back to cover me, to support me, to make me feel safe. The team doesn’t work the same without you. _I_ don’t work the same.” When he swallows Keith can feel it.

“You don’t have to come back.” Lance finally sits up but Keith doesn’t let him go far. “But if you feel like you don’t have a place to go or someone who needs you you’re wrong.” His vision blurs. “Because we need you. I-”

Keith kisses him before he can finish and Lance sinks into it, needy and desperate, eyes squeezed shut. He settles back down against Keith’s chest, Keith’s fingers threading through his hair like he’s precious, his touch tender.

When the kiss ends Lance doesn’t open his eyes and there’s a deep furrow between his brows.

“Stay,” he whispers. “Please.”  

Keith cups the side of Lance’s face, kissing the corner of his mouth.

“Okay.” A smile stretches across his lips and Lance’s eyes flutter open, hardly daring to hope. “But I’m keeping the jacket.”


End file.
